I should’ve mourned. But a strange pulse of excitement bubbled up from my stomach and I smiled to myself as I took another drink, and wiped away more tears.
3
Dean
The room was dark and smoky. Hector puffed on a cigar stub and the smoke wafted up toward the ceiling. He was the family’s consigliere, our main lawyer, and a fixer for City Hall.
He was one of the men most loyal to my father. He joined the family back when he was a young man, and he came up through the ranks until he stood toward the top of the family, though apart from everyone. He wasn’t a grunt, a soldier, or a Capo—he did political and legal work only. My father kept him out of the line of fire and Hector always appreciated that.
I planned on doing the same thing, so long as he gave me his support.
Bea sat in the back corner of the room of a red velvet chair. Her hands were folded primly in her lap and she smiled at me then at Hector, and looked the part of the doting housekeeper—but I knew her much better than that.
“Can we trust Roy?” I asked, glancing from Hector to Bea.
Hector answered first. “I think so,” he said. “So long as he gets what he wants.”
“I’ve never known Roy to break his promises,” Bea said. “Your father put a great deal of faith in that man.”
“My father had a particular relationship with him,” I said, drumming my fingers on the desk. “I won’t ever have that.”
“The girl will help,” Hector said.
Bea’s smile turned sour. She didn’t approve of the marriage plan, that much was obvious, but she hadn’t said so yet.
Speaking outright wasn’t Bea’s style. She’d been around my father for many years, since before I was born. The rumors about her were mostly true, though she wasn’t some puppet master making my father dance. She was a trusted advisor, whip-smart and sometimes cruel when needed, but always steadfastly loyal. I knew she’d have my back no matter what.
“Mags doesn’t want to be here,” I said. “I offered her money, but I’m not sure it’s enough to keep her around.”
“There are other ways to buy Roy’s loyalty,” Bea said, which was about as direct as she’d get.
“That’s true,” Hector rumbled. “But this is the method he wanted. How against this marriage are you, Dean?”
I ran a hand through my hair and considered. I was willing to do whatever it took to keep the family together, but I didn’t want to force a girl into marrying me. It was a delicate situation, and I hoped that offering her an absurd amount of money to make this happen would sway her enough to keep her happy, but Mags didn’t strike me as the type to let money dictate everything.
If she didn’t want to be with me, I knew she’d find a way out, money or no money.
Though that still didn’t answer Hector’s question.
Did I want to be with her? Maybe, I didn’t know.
She was beautiful and smart, but there was a fire inside of her, a flame that burned red and hot.
And it made her hate the mafia with a passion.
“I’m willing to give it a chance,” I said finally.
Bea’s disapproving smile made me grimace.
“Then I don’t see the issue,” Hector said, waving the cigar. “The girl’s here, she says she’s willing, so what’s the problem?”
“The problem is Roy,” I said, meeting Bea’s gaze. “Marrying his niece is one thing. But what happens if he starts demanding more?”
Hector grunted and shook his head. “That won’t happen. Roy’s loyal.”
“To your father,” Bea said.
“And my father’s dead,” I said. “I’m the Don now. I’ll give Roy this one concession but if he asks for more—” I stopped myself and let that sink in.
Hector sighed and took a white handkerchief from his pocket. He dabbed at his forehead as he puffed away. “Ugly business,” he grunted. “These successions are always ugly. Seen it a hundred times in the business world. Rich patriarch dies and his children rip themselves to pieces trying to get at the corpse of the company.”
“That won’t happen here,” I said.
Hector stood up with a sigh. “Well, I support you, no matter what,” he said. “As always, I’m at your service. I belong to the Valentino family.”
“Thank you, Hector. Your loyalty won’t be forgotten.”
He chuckled as he headed to the door. “You keep the payments rolling in and I’ll feel duly appreciated.” He laughed as he left, puffing away.
Bea sighed and watched him go. “I’ll have to clean the smell of cigar out of the whole house at this rate,” she said.
I leaned across the desk to try to get a sense of what she was thinking. Bea helped raise me after my mom died, and I looked up to her. She took care of me, and though she’d never replace my mother, I respected and loved her like one anyway.